Freddy Fazbear's Pizza
by BoozeSaltAndSharpThings
Summary: The detailed accounts of what happened during those nights at the pizza place meant for children and how it all went wrong. A story that started with laughter and ended in terror. Note; This story is based off the FNAFs games. Some information may be madeup/wrong as the exact history & events are based off speculation and/or obscure. The plot is followed as closely as possible.
1. Chapter 1 New Job

**Chapter One**

**Mike Schmidt**

**Nov 9th 1992**  
**Night 1**

"Worst idea, ever." He sighed irritably as he pulled into the parking lot of the 'Freddy Fazbear's Pizza'.  
The outside of the once famous pizza place looked run down and old, making the new security guard give it a scrutinizing glare. Who brought their kids here during the day time anyways? That was like asking for your child to get a disease. The bright white paint was chipped away by weather to show the grey concrete underneath, and the banner that hung above the main entrance was now a dull yellow; it's once bright pink words now faded from rain and neglect. As far as Mike was concerned, there was no reason to celebrate. If he didn't need a part time job to put food in his college fridge, he wouldn't have taken this gig in a hundred years. Not with the rumors that constantly circled the place and the low pay. He had been unfortunate enough to find it in the paper. His buddies all had a tale or two to tell about the run down children's attractions. None of them were good.

"No use bitching now." He hummed as he parked his car in the front of the building, before killing the engine.  
His eyes flickered down to the purple security uniform that he wore. Honestly, he didn't see why it had to be such an obnoxious color which only added insult to injury. He was on night shift anyways, it wasn't like he was going to be walking out to greet the kids after his shift. His lips pulled into a soft groan as he slid open the door to his black Ford pick-up, complete with rust on the edge of the frame and no door to the bed.

The concrete side walk was cracked and bits of weeds and grass jutted out of them like tiny green needles. He glanced at the glass door that gave way to the diner. Even outside the smell of greasy pizza and flat pop was hard to miss. Trying to peer inside, he winced. It was dark, with the exception of a flickering light or two. Mike's lips pursed as he flicked on the flash light on his security belt before moving to unlock the doors. He was about to push them open when something caught his attention. The sound of a kid's quiet crying caught his ears. Just behind him, if he were to guess.

Did someone actually forget to pick up their child from this crazy place? He turned to find the kid, shining the flashlight behind him. "You oka-?"

But there was nothing on the curb. And the crying was gone as if it had never been there in the first place. Mike frowned at the idea of his mind already playing tricks on him this early into the job. He would have heard the child take off down the street or into the grass if they had been there. The articles of missing kids and hauntings of Fred's suddenly surfaced and a chill slipped down his back. Not that he hadn't been told by his friends the history of this creepy restaurant to begin with. He had nothing to worry about though, right? He wasn't some five year old who was going to be snatched up by a sicko. "Let's just get this stupid night over with."

Slipping inside the creaking doors, he appeared to be in the dining area. When he applied earlier that morning, it was filled with kids and the animatronics on the stage were singing songs, heads bobbing from side to side electronically. The black and white tiled floor stretched out to the two hallways that held restrooms, private party rooms and the like. He had hardly been paying attention during his tour around. The owner of the place, Roger Bleak, had told him that the job would probably only be temporary.

"I just don't have the money to keep this place running and the poor animatronics…with all the rumors and accidents behind them….this place just isn't what it used to be."  
Mike had forced a smile. "I'm sure it'll be enough to put some food in my stomach for the time being." It was only five miles from his house too.  
Now within the darkness of night and the lights gone along with the laughter of children, he could understand the man's fear. The tables were covered with white cloth, a faded confetti pattern adorn them. The walls were decorated with drawings and banners hung over the six tables, giving a welcome feeling if the place was still bright. Party hats ready to be worn tomorrow lined up with the chairs. Flimsy dollar store ones made of card board and shiny material. He glanced back to see the stage where the ugly figures of Bonnie, Freddy, and Chica were.

Chica was a yellow duck with sharp teeth in her beak and bib that said 'Let's eat.' Her dopey eyes were staring to the side, faded painted pupils looking dull and disturbing. Mike had to wonder who had the idea to give them teeth anyways. Now a days, you couldn't hand a small child something they could fit in their mouth because they may choke. And wouldn't the teeth just scare that little ones? He could almost picture a sniffling girl staring up at the bird during a less depressing time in the animatronics' life. She would sniffle as her mother soothed her with a comforting; "Well she's gotta eat too doesn't she? And pizza is tough to chew!"  
The kid would go scampering away excited with a piece of pizza and all would be right in the world again. Besides, when these 'characters' were made was when they didn't have seat belts in cars yet.

Freddy was second, the brown bear on center stage with a mic in hand, a small top hat, and bow tie. The face of the pizzeria and an ugly one at that. This wasn't the type of teddy bear he could see himself clinging to in the middle of a thunderstorm at the age of eight. His gaze was pointed down as well but Mike swore he saw them move just a little bit. He was supposed to be the mascot or the star but many children, from what little he did gather, found Foxy to be their favorite. Maybe it was the bulky figure that frightened away most of the kids.

Then came Bonnie, the purple rabbit that held a guitar in his hands; with ears that could twitch at the top and a red bow tie. Unlike the others, its eyes were wide and its jaw was opened in a half song. Or like it was ready to bite someone's head off. That reminded him of the news clipping he found on the internet. It had been called the Bite of 87'. One of the damn robotic yahoos had taken a chunk out of someone's skull. None that were up here, or so he was told. They looked so run down, he doubted any of them could do much more than jerk from side to side. He sighed as he gave the sad animatronics another once over before heading down the hallway to his right, past the curtain with the out of order sign. He mildly wondered /what/ was out of order. The owner had just said that some of the machines broke down once and a while and that this one probably wouldn't be running again for the rest of the pizzeria's life. The only sounds of the place were a few clicking fans and the clap of his own footsteps. His eyes flickered over to curtain though, when the softest of singing echoed the room.

Singing. Not lyrical sensible singing but a soft 'dum dum da dum', as if someone were doing chores and passing the time away. Unlike the sobbing of the small child, it didn't fade when he turned towards the source. It was low, like an older male's tone. "Hello?"  
No answer. Maybe it was part of whatever was not working, another animatronic singing its part in the show. He realized he hadn't seen the character 'Foxy' that was displayed on some of the posters. Mike slowly pulled his flashlight to the center of the purple star covered fabric, moving carefully forward to draw back the curtain. And he screamed.


	2. Chapter 2 The Beginning

**Chapter 2; The Beginning**

**Night 1**  
**June 24th 1972**

Finally, Fred had found his dream taking fruit. The sign in front of the large diner was being hammered in by his son Christopher as he proudly watched. This was the turn of the age of technology, he was sure of it. The click of the wooden mallet into the post brought back memories of working on the rail roads, bringing home little food for his wife and child. He struggled to survive all this time and now, he would be able to bring joy to children and adults alike. Fred Franks was nearing the end of his forties. His son had grown up to be a mechanical genius and together, they were going to make sure their family never starved again.  
One more clack and Chris fell back, looking at the wooden sign that read in bright red letters "Fredbear's Family Diner". The diner inside had a tilted checkered floor with booths and tables, a counter to order food and a few small games set to the side of the wide space. Pinball machines and arcade games. But the main attraction was the beautiful oak wood stage near the center of the right hand corner. Curtains with hand embroidered stars from his wife hung, ready to be drawn open. But the stars of their diner weren't quite finished yet. "How's the secret weapon doing?" He teased his son.

Chris only shrugged, a grin coming to the eighteen year old's face. "Reckon it should be fine, sir." He said with a nod. "Ya think we should talk to Peter? He has been wanting to-"  
Peter was Fred's eldest son. The nineteen year old was different from the rest of the family though. He spent most of his days wandering around, pretending that he had no care for anything in the world. His father couldn't seem to get through the boy's head that he had to become a man one day. "Supposedly he got a job at the butchers. Kid's got a fascination for that sort of stuff." Fred mumbled as he quickly stepped inside. A sign that the conversation was done.

Chris trailed after his father, a little sorry he had brought up anything about the eldest. He knew his father worried over his slightly looney brother. He remembered growing up, how Peter would be the one that kicked the cats or shot squirrels with pellet guns. When they got older the boy actually started beating up other kids and taking lunch money. He had even broken Chris' arm once in a scuffle. But walking into the diner, his thoughts floated away to the beautiful surroundings. "Momma is gonna love it." He said as he clasped his hand on Fred's shoulder.  
"I hope so bud. I really do. And when lil Fred Junior grows up, I bet he will too."

**Night 1**  
**Nov. 9th 1992**  
**Mike Schmidt**

Mike stared at the disassembled creature with a hook for a hand and an eye patch. His heart beat slammed in his ears as he gripped the curtain, eyes closing as he slowly chuckled at his own stupidity. Another stupid robot. The second he had pulled back the curtain, the music had stopped. Probably triggered something. The red paint was chipped here and there and this poor guy looked worse than the others. He sighed as he closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. "Mike Schmidt; you are one sorry son of a bitch." He grumbled as he ran a hand through his dark brown hair. He grumbled and threw the curtain closed, moving towards where he would find the office. The wall was littered with kid's drawings and star streamers that were old and losing their shine.

He had to wonder why stars in the first place, but that didn't really matter he supposed. Most of the posters on the walls depicted Freddy with some kind of combination of Let's eat, party, celebrate. "Could the old guy of this place really not think of anything better?" He found himself criticizing.  
But even still, he was surprised how dirty the floor was. There were boxes of used pizza cartons on the corner of the hallway along with bits of wrapping paper and a drink. Picking up one of the papers that was strewn about, he noticed it was order forms for getting more supplies. "They did say this place was closing soon. Guess the poor old guy really did give up."  
Moving to his would be post for the night, he actually held back the urge to gag. This place looked like a college dorm room. Not his, of course, because he was rather clean and neat about things. Future lawyer, hello. But he sighed as he resigned to his fate. He moved to sit down in the chair and flipped on the power. 'Why had it been off in the first place?', he wondered. The guard before him was supposed to leave the damn power on anyways, so he could find his way that night. Sitting in the chair, he relished the fact that there was a small fan and a few monitors he was supposed to be observing. Pulling a Gameboy color from his pocket, he had figured he would just kick back and relax.

Then the phone rang, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. Who the hell was calling the pizza place at this time of night? It was twelve in the morning for god's sake. Picking up the phone as he watched the lights flicker on in the hallways, a slightly too chipper voice came over the phone.

"_Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?_"

A pre recorded message had scared him. This guy probably rigged it so that he could send him a message every day of the week and that's why the phone rang. Genius, but annoying. Now Mike had to listen to this guy's voice every night for the next seven days. He also took note that the guy before him was a slob. More soda paper cups littered the desk with a few hot dog wrappers from the company. A weird plastic cupcake with googly eyes and a candle on its head sat on top of one of the power sources. A picture of the tragic trio of robots with the big words 'celebrate' over top of them. 'Trust me fellas, we got nothing to celebrate about.' He thought as the recording started again.

"_Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced_."

That made Mike tick an eye brow upwards. Accident or death? Missing person report in ninety days and only after the premises has been cleaned. Was the rumors about the missing children true then? Was there maybe something tragic that happened here? He didn't believe for a second that it was the animatronics as many people claimed but as he looked at the camera, he felt a strange chill flutter over him, causing him to look at the hallway openings and windows on either side of him. No way. That had to be just a little gag joke to scare away workers who just came to find out if this place was haunted. Right?

"_Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay._"

Respect for some really old possibly murderous machines that wanted him dead. Oh good advice there. No wonder this guy was leaving the night shift. He swallowed hard as he leaned back against his chair, eyes running to the monitors. Nothing changed. He let his head fall back down to the small game device in his hand while listening to the message on the speaker. If all he had to worry about was listening to another bored security guard talk, then he would be fine. All he had to do was make sure that the local high school kids didn't come by and throw rocks. Not that he had when he was younger or anything.

The nasally voice continued and his next words made him almost drop his Gameboy. His lips parted open into a wide o.

"_So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?_"

Without the frontal lobe. Without the… Mike felt his eyes flicker to the cameras and his lips formed a frown. The curtain, the one he had shut after his run in with Foxy, was slightly parted. Maybe it was the wind. Maybe it was the characters? And what the hell did free roaming mean? And why were they allowed to roam around at all when they had bitten someone? Surely that same model wasn't here on the floor. Then again…Foxy was out of order for a reason most likely. He felt sick. 'I was two feet from that son of a bitch!' He and the manager were going to have words at the end of the week.

But as he looked up at the monitor, he knew something was off. Bonnie's right ear was now twitched downwards, eyes shifted to the right to look straight at the camera feed without turning towards it. He felt his entire body go rigid.

"_Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh._"

Was he making a joke about this? Did this happen before? How did he even know? And the way he said the last bit, like it was a sick amusing thought. His body shivered involuntarily, the idea of being shoved into something electronic and sharp and ripped to pieces- his entire body quivered again. Christ, that had to be the most horrible way to go. His game boy had slipped back into his jean jacket, gaze now glued to the monitor now as he watched, waited. Nothing happened even as several seconds passed. The nasally voice continued to fill him in, they didn't move. So he stole a glance down at the small paper map before him, showing the angle of each camera. Okay, so they walked around at night. Maybe no more than a few steps. They were so broken down, he was sure he could out run the bastards if he had to. Yea, now he felt a tiny bit better about the whole thing. He was getting worked up and the older security guard was probably some nut job.

"_Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night_."

Mike took a deep breath. Right, the power was limited during the night to help with bills and the last thing he wanted was a power outage. He would be fine. He could do this, and there was a little excitement to it. Heh, no big-

His eyes looked up at the monitors.

And Bonnie was gone.


End file.
